Italy, the Mafia and Britain
by RavenSara84
Summary: South Italy has a problem, which was caused by Spain, he now has to stay with Britain for a while.  It's not what he wants, but the Brit is trying to save his life from the Italian mafia.
1. Chapter 1

Italy, the Mafia and Britain

Rated: T

Pairing: South Italy/Britain (LovinoxArthur)

Warnings: Violence, swearing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers and I receive no money from writing these fanfics

Summary: Romano has to stay with Britain for a while as some problem's back home have appeared due to Spain not knowing how to deal with the Italian mafia.

X

_That god damn tomato bastard!_ Romano thought to himself as he lay across the bed, his hands behind his head and his eyes gazed over the ceiling; _If he hadn't been so stupid and antagonised the mafia this wouldn't have happened!_

A small voice in his head, who sounded rather like his brother said; _But Britain's house has no cracks on the ceiling._

He shook his head, sitting up and wanting to break something, when he remembered what happened when he first arrived here. The Italian sighed, his anger depleting; _why is he helping me? What is he getting out of this?_

XXX

The day before

The Italian had broken a chair, a few plates and was now starting on the table, when Spain touched his arm firmly.

"Don't touch me you bastard!" Romano spat, as Spain's grip got a bit tighter.

"It's either his house, or Germany's," Spain said seriously, the Italian stopped struggling and looked away; "France doesn't have the same… Skill in this type of situation,"

_I hate France. _Romano thought to himself, but kept it to himself, since he knew the decision had already been made.

"For you, Britain is the lesser evil," Spain told him as he let go of the other's arm, although he still disliked the island nation that had prevented him from ruling the nation; he knew that Romano hated Germany.

Although he knew that Germany would do his best to protect his little Romano, with the Italian hating the other nation, it would be rather difficult to keep him safe and secure for the time it would take Spain to fix everything.

"Fine you bastard, but you'd better fix this quickly!" He snapped but his former boss just smiled.

"Ah, don't worry, it will all calm down soon,"

"Calm down?" He yelled; "You have angered the Mafia! _My_ mafia! It will only _calm down_ when the blood flows!"

XXX

He sighed, Antonio was an idiot, he'd warned him, he _did_, but the other nation thought he knew better. Now it was payback.

The mafia had eyes everywhere, he knew it better than anyone else since it was _his_ mafia. They knew full well that to get to Spain, they could get to him, so they hounded him, which wasn't hard considering that they _always_ knew where he was, but when he learned why he began to badger the Spaniard, who finally found him a safe heaven.

So, he was now in Britain's house, or flat more to the point, although it had four floors; but it felt so foreign to him, it was rather cosy and warm, but it needed to be, considering it was pouring down right now and the wind made the trees bow down.

He would never admit this out loud, but the Brit did surprise him when he picked him up at the airport earlier on in the day.

"Sorry about the weather, "The blonde haired nation said as they met up at the airport arrivals.

Romano looked outside and shivered; "Doesn't matter," He hadn't been expecting anything less, considering what his brother had told him about the country when the G8 meetings happened over there.

They made the long walk to the car, which was thankfully undercover; they were only in the rain for a short while, when Britain's phone rang.

"Hello?" He said and his emerald eyes became serious; "Ah… That's good," He paused as the person informed him of something; "We'll be going the long route… Oh?" He shook his head; "It's almost like a bloody movie,"

Romano looked over at the other nation, who wasn't paying any attention to him but brought out his car keys and pushed the button to unlock the doors, holding his arm out in front of the Italian to stop him from walking any further.

"All right, we'll take the train," He hung up as they turned around and walked back to the airport.

"What's going on?" Romano asked, looking around himself, wondering if he remembered to pack a white flag.

"You're safe, don't worry, I'll tell you when we're on the train. It's usually quiet at this time of day," Britain said softly and they became quiet.

Bloody thoughts entered Romano's head, had he been found? Was Britain actually working with the mafia? Was he going to be killed? Was Britain going to kill him as revenge against Spain?

He wanted to run, to get away, but he didn't know this country and the other nation would find him easily.

Ten minutes had passed and they were on the train to London, with Romano still wanting to run away or find a white flag; although he didn't believe he had packed the flag.

Once again the Brit's phone rang; "Hello?" The blonde looked worried; "Was anyone hurt?" He then let out a sigh; "Oh good, but they obviously know that he's here," He looked over to Romano and suddenly his eye's burned with anger; "You're forgetting who I am sir," He snapped; "That's fine," He hung up and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to look at the scared nation; "Well, that mafia of yours knows you are here,"

Romano trembled; "W… What happened?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, he'd been warned by Spain that Romano wasn't exactly polite, in all honesty he had remember the time when he had met both Italy brother's, but it wasn't a time to examine their personalities.

"The car we were going to take had a bomb planted under it, during the time I was waiting for you in the airport. That's why I unlocked the car when I got the call,"

Romano was impressed, Britain's people were good at this, and Spain appeared to have been right to send him here.

"The car's blown up, thankfully no one was hurt, and the area was cleared away in time,"

"That bastard, why did he make them angry?"

"We're a step ahead of them," Arthur continued, ignoring the question since he knew it wasn't one he needed to answer; "My spies are everywhere,"

"Where are we going?"

"The city of London," Arthur informed him; "I have a flat in Victoria, we'll be staying there for a while,"

"So, I'm to be stuck in a god damn flat?" He yelled angrily.

The Brit smirked; "Only if you want to be, I was going to show you around, I know your brother has been here…"

"Of course he has, he always takes part in those damn meetings you people are so fond of," Romano snipped and then said; "That will be fine…" Then in a small voice he finally said; "Thanks,"

Arthur heard him, just barely and smiled; "I promised Spain that you would be safe,"

"You two hate each other," The Italian pointed out, confused; "I remember the wars that happened, don't lie to me you tea lover!"

The other nation found Romano amusing, although he could easily see why Germany found both brother's to be hard work during the war; "Yes, yes we did hate each other. Things change Romano, you can't hate everyone for all time,"

"But… You and France…"

"Oh, I hate that bloody wanker, don't misunderstand me," Arthur sighed, his and Francis did have a complicated relationship; "I would never allow just anyone to hurt him. Our history is intertwined; we've been friends and enemies,"

Romano was surprised, that hadn't been the answer he'd been expecting, although it could be a way to describe the relationship between himself and Spain… Not that he would ever admit that of course.

"Would I be safer in Germany?" He asked quietly, after all he didn't really know Britain that well, in fact he had no real need to know him, since in the past Spain had always fought for him.

Arthur shook his head; "Germany would protect you as well as he and his own people could, but with your brother being there as well, it would be a harder task,"

The Italian remained silent for some moments; "How long will I stay here for?" 

"Until Spain has sorted something out,"

"Tch that could be a hundred years!"

"Well," Arthur smiled; "I doubt it would take him that long, what about ninety years?"

"Ninety-five,"

"Ninety-two,"

"Ninety-six,"

"Ninety-three,"

"That bastard fucks up too many times," Romano finally snapped; "I don't know why I still talk to him,"

"Oh, I think France fucks up more,"

"Heh," Romano smirked; "I guess he does… Britain I _can't_ stay here for ninety years!"

"Just call me Arthur," He told the other nation with a shrug and before Romano could reply he stood up; "Our stop is coming, we should get your cases,"

He followed suit, surprised, the island nation was allowing him to called him by his human name? For a nation to call another by their human name wasn't something that was thrown around, it was a personal decision, so why would Britain allow him to call him by his human name?

Although he didn't have time to think it over, since they made their way to the underground and a wave of bodies surged forward and the Italian felt himself being caught up in it. Frantically he searched for the Brit and found that he wasn't far, if anything he allowed the crowd to push him forward and soon was walking next to him.

Unlike Romano, Arthur wasn't fazed by the crowds of people, nor the sudden heat when they got down stairs; he just kept close to the other nation, taking his arm;

"Victoria line, south," He pointed to the blue line and they turned to the left, as did the majority of the crowd; "Hm… it's a bit busy," He commented as he looked around.

"A bit?" Romano snapped, although he didn't make the other let go of his arm, he was scared that he would get lost in this vast crowd; "Sardines have more space!"

"I'm sure, but not much can be done about it," He picked up the suitcase and Romano grabbed the other and they charged to the train, just before the doors closed.

Once more Arthur stayed near the Italian, who suddenly felt rather claustrophobic, although they only had four stops, it felt like forever.

Once the train stopped, he got into the spirit, pushing people out of his way to get out and follow the 'Way Out' signs, with Arthur at his heels.

Once he got out side, he crouched down, taking deep breaths and enjoying the cold wind that hit his clammy skin.

Arthur crouched down next to him; "Sorry, but it was the quickest way to get here,"

"Fucking…" He began, taking another gulp of air; "People… Do they do that for the warmth?"

"It's the easiest way to travel, not to mention quickest," Although Arthur wanted to snap right back at the Italian he couldn't, it would lead to a screaming match which they didn't need right now; "We'll be traveling by bus now though,"

"More god damn public transport!" Romano cried out, frustrated.

"No, not now, it's just a ten minute walk down the road," Arthur pointed the direction; Romano noticed the theatre they would be passing had a big green ad for the play 'Wicked'.

"Thank god," He said with a sigh as he stood up and followed the Brit, now deciding it was time to make things an even footing; "Brit… Ah, Arthur…"

"Hmm? Something wrong?" He turned to look at the other nation as they waited at the traffic lights.

"No!" He snapped, looking away; "Just… Just call me Lovino,"

"All right then," Arthur said with a smile.

"This doesn't mean anything! Any funny business you god damn tea lover…" His threat fell flat, since he couldn't really do anything _against_ Arthur and Spain couldn't help him right now.

They crossed and passed a good few café's, shops and restaurants and Romano felt himself getting tired.

"How far away is it?"

_He's starting to sound like Alfred._ Arthur thought to himself; "Not too far, just a right here and a street along,"

Sure enough they reached some flats, although the one Arthur walked up to didn't have any com's like the other flats.

"I own this one, so it's a full house," He explained, noticing the look of confusion on Romano's face and brought out his keys.

"I heard America go on about your gardens, was he just talking about the local parks?" He asked, confused once more, the flat didn't have much space for a garden, which was a disappointment to him, he would have liked to have done some gardening while he was trapped here.

"Well, there are a lot of parks, I know of one that would interest you…" The Brit shook his head; "But I only live here when I am needed by either the government or my Queen, I never stay here for too long, though I figured it would be best to stay here for a while. The fellows following you will probably think you have gone out of town anyway,"

"They'll be watching…"

He unlocked the door and brought both of the cases in as Romano closed the door.

"This is London and we have just been on the underground, it's hard to follow people with such a crowd around them, very easy to lose sight unless they made it obvious. They don't have a chance of finding you,"

_Yet,_ Romano added mentally; "You're going to move me around?"

"Only at first. They want to hit Spain where it hurts and they are desperate to find you," Arthur said, taking off his coat and hanging it up, gesturing for the other nation to do the same.

"This won't…" He started as he took off his own coat, only for the Brit to interrupt him.

"It will, trust me; the mafia are just like any other criminal group, and given time they'll get bored. They may end up trying to attack Spain head on, which we both know would be stupid,"

"They enjoy the hunt," Romano argued as he hung up his coat on the stand before looking at Arthur, feeling like this idea was stupid and while he was afraid, terrified – although he would _never_ admit it out loud – but the mafia were powerful, as the car bomb from before proved.

"Stop it," Arthur said sternly, his emerald eyes full of confidence and all the negative thoughts in his head were silenced; "My people have dealt with many groups, the IRA being one. They can help; don't even _think_ of writing us off so quickly,"

"Tch, the IRA gave your people warnings…"

"Yes, but that was due to my brother demanding it. He may not like me, but we are still family,"

Romano raised an eyebrow, he had heard many things about Britain's family, how the relations between brother's were strained and yet still family-like, it was strange to him; "A chat to you while your own people find the bomb?"

He laughed; "Actually it was clues, but stranger things have happened,"

They began to take the cases up stairs to the guest room, which Romano wasn't impressed with, it may be a double bed with an en-suite, but the room its self had no personality at all.

"You give this to your guests?"

Arthur's eyebrow twitched; "I forgot you were the bratty brother of Spain,"

"Who are you calling a brat furry brows?" Romano then realised what the Brit had suggested and suddenly yelled; "He is _no brother of mine!_"

"Oh?" Arthur didn't allow himself to sink into this argument, after all he'd never really spoken to the South Italy before, but he also wanted to see what button's he could push; "So are you his lover? Never actually thought he went that way,"

Romano went bright red at the implication; "Bastardo! He's nothing to me, less than nothing! He took me in when Austria didn't want me to be with my fratello!"

Both of them became silent, both were surprised at the outburst and the surprising truth Romano blurted out.

"Lovino, Spain is your brother," Arthur held up a hand to stop any protest; "Whether you want to admit it or not,"

He fumed, refusing to admit that it might be true; even though Antonio was more his own brother than Veneziano.

"Make yourself at home," Arthur said; "I'll need to head out for a while, but there should be pasta in the kitchen,"

_Bastards!_ Romano thought to himself, itching to break something; but he wanted to feel clean, after being trapped with so many people around him on the underground, so he made his way to the bathroom and began to wash away the filth that he felt he gained from that overcrowded and stuffy transport.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the next day when Romano saw the Brit again, not due to Arthur being out late, but more to do with Romano still being angry at the suggestion that Antonio was a brother to him.

He was still half asleep as he entered the kitchen, Arthur quietly sipping his tea while reading the newspaper only to look up at him;

"Morning,"

"Ciao," Romano muttered as he rifled through the cupboard and found the one with tea and hot chocolate, after much searching her let out a shriek when he found that Arthur had _no_ coffee.

"There are plenty of café's around," Arthur tried to placate the coffee addict, while he took the last dregs of his own tea.

Romano turned to glare at him; "How can you not have coffee? You have a million different types of tea and hot chocolate but no god damn coffee!"

"Why the hell would I buy _any_ coffee? I don't drink it and had you asked me last night I would have got some for you, instead you just crept around in your room and trying to avoid me like I'm the bloody mafia!" He snapped back, glaring at the other nation.

"Italian's like their coffee," Romano growled; "You've met my brother enough times to know that,"

"Actually I never really saw him drink any coffee at all,"

"What! Stop lying bastardo…." Although he trailed off, thinking; _I've never seen __Veneziano drink as much as I do._

Arthur appeared to have calmed himself down; "Since you're already dressed, I have an idea for today, aside from getting you some coffee; I was thinking that maybe you want to have a tour of London,"

The Italian just looked at him, Arthur wasn't being oblivious like Spain, he argued with him, though he hadn't been surprised, but he never expected Britain to be so calm after a war of words.

"A tour of London?"

"Yes, there's a tour bus…"

"Ha! Because you don't know your own city that well!"

Arthur glared at him; "Actually it's because the views from the bus are always spectacular, better than from walking around,"

"So, coffee…" Romano couldn't argue with him on that point, although he had never been on a double decked bus before, he had seen on the news that the people in Britain travelled that way.

"Come along, there must be a café in this area that does your kind of coffee," Arthur folded his newspaper and took his cup to the sink; "If we go now the bus won't be busy either,"

Romano walked back upstairs to put his shoes on as Arthur got his from the cupboard by the door, the blonde was ready to go as he waited for the Italian to slowly descend from the stairs, looking completely exhausted.

_Perhaps he doesn't need a cup of coffee; he needs to have it pumped into him._ Arthur thought, noticing that although tired, the Italian still looked well dressed.

As they left the house, they walked by a few café's, the most notable was a Starbucks.

"God damn American," Romano muttered loudly and Arthur stopped himself from laughing.

He didn't realise that Romano didn't really like America, but then the Southern Italian didn't really seem to like anyone.

"I don't think that quiet sums him up," He commented as they stopped in front of another coffee shop.

"Ah, coffee…" Romano ran in and bought himself two cups, drinking them both quickly.

As he came back out, Arthur just stared at him; the Italian looked more lively already.

_That's freaky._ He thought to himself before he spoke; "All right?"

"Ci," He said as they begun to walk to the station; "So, a tour bus…"

"Yes," Arthur nodded; "I have never been on one, so I don't trust what the recordings tell you,"

"Tch, it's your country… Your city, you should know about its history," Romano pointed out and the Brit nodded; "Then tell me yourself," He walked off in the wrong direction and looked at the other nation; "What?"

"You idiot, you've never been to London before! What makes you think you know your way around?"

"Well excuse me Mr former God damn Empire, but you're not giving me any directions!"

"Lovino we're going this way,"

"Who said you could call me that?" Romano snapped, forgetting the conversation that they had less than twenty-four hours ago.

Arthur just looked at him, _how could he forget something like that?_

He coughed before he replied; "Yesterday you asked me to just call you Lovino, but I can just stick to Romano,"

The brown haired Italian blushed in embarrassment; "Yea, well, you can just call me that then," He whispered as he followed Arthur round another corner to the bus stop.

The two waited in silence, Romano trying to get over his embarrassment, while Arthur worried over the tour.

_What if I forget something? Of course how would he know? But suppose he decides to…_ His thoughts were silenced, as the other nation spoke to him and pointed to a bus that was coming towards the stop.

"That's the one," Arthur said and Romano rolled his eyes.

"Ci, the words 'Tour Bus' give the game away,"

He choose to ignore that comment; "They'll give you headphones and a rainmate,"

"Rainmate?" He raised an eyebrow, not understanding what the word meant.

"Waterproofs, in case it rains,"

"The sky is clear…"

"Well, we can have all four sessions in the one day,"

He blinked before shaking his head and getting on the bus as Arthur paid, muttering; "You Brits are crazy," in Italian.

The Brit chuckled as he made his way on the bus and they went to the top deck; "Where?"

"Front," Romano said, moving quickly as he could although he almost fell over a few times.

"They won't be moving just yet," Arthur tried to calm him as they sat down; "Oh I forgot to say…"

The bus began to move, given that they had no shelter above them and that they were in London, the wind was rather breezy, causing the Italian curl to hit Arthur in the face who kept pushing it away.

""S… Stop that!" Romano shouted, shaking.

"Get it away," The other nation said with another swat.

"D…Don't t… Touch…" He spluttered.

"Tch," Arthur carefully stood up and sat behind him.

"Pervert," He snapped, now that no one was touching his hair curl.

"Excuse me?" Arthur just looked at him in surprise as he turned to glare at the Brit.

"You heard you god damn tea lover," He spat out glaring at him.

Arthur had no idea what he did… _Oh, right. The hair curl, it's sensitive to the Italian brothers. How did I forget that?_

"Ah, well, sorry about that," He said and looked around him; "We're coming to Wellingtons Arch,"

Romano was about to yelled at him, but stopped when he saw the arch. It was huge, then there was the bronze statue's on top of it, a chariot with an angel.

Arthur never said anything, letting the other nation just look at the arch in wonder.

"It's almost like the ones in Rome," Romano said quietly.

"Next is Marble Arch, which was based on the arch of Constantine," Arthur informed him, as the bus stopped to pick up other tourists; "Romano, perhaps we should move to that side," He gestured to the right side, so that the other's hair curl wouldn't hit anything.

As they sat down, he carried on; "It was in place on The Mall, as a gateway to Buckingham palace, back in 1828 the palace didn't have its flat east front, so the inner courtyard, flanked by two wings, were still open on one-side, so the Marble Arch was placed there. Later the Arch was moved here," Arthur gestured to the large traffic island and Romano just stared at it; "It was during the building of the east front of the palace back in… 1855, although there is a popular story which says the Arch was moved because the Queen's state coach couldn't pass through," He chuckled, not realising that although there was only another few tourist's on the top deck, they were all listening to him; "However that's not true, since the same state coach passed under is during Queen Elizabeth II's coronation back in 1953."

"Are you a tour guide?" One tourist asked, Arthur looked at the lady in surprise, the accent obviously Australian… His former colony.

He felt heat rise up his neck as he shook his head; "Err, no…It's just easier to hear for my Italian friend,"

"Oh, well you are doing such a good job, I usually come on here every time I come, which is usually every few years," The lady smiled; although her big sunglasses hid her eyes, so Arthur wasn't sure if it was a true smile or not; "But you've given me enough information to process without getting lost,"

Romano just watched the Brit with a smirk, seeing that Arthur hadn't a clue how to take such a compliment. _You flirt with the lady and then move on, like an Italian._

"Well…" Arthur coughed and saw the others looked at him, _Oh what the hell!_ ; "There is Hyde park," He pointed to the green grounds, there was a large pathway; "That is Speakers Corner, as the name suggests the speakers can speak on any subject that they wish, so long as the police consider the speeches to be lawful. Of course this isn't restricted to Hyde Park; the freedom of speech applies to anywhere in Britain, the police are tolerant, since no subject is proscribed, therefore they only intervene when they have received a complaint or if they hear profanity. The corner used to be visited by the likes of George Orwell, Karl Marx, Vladimir Lenin and Kwame Nkrumah and it's exsistence is frequently upheld as a demonstration of free speech," Arthur said with a slight nod as they began to drive away from the park; "Anyone can turn up unannounced and talk on nearly any subject, although there is a risk of being heckled,"

"So, why is London the only place that has one?" A young man asked him, everyone had moved to be closer to the two nations, Romano hadn't noticed, he was so busy looking at what was around him, while Arthur was hoping the 'audience' wouldn't be picky on his knowledge of the past.

"It's not; I know that in city centres on certain days of the week, mainly the weekend, there are people who do the same thing. As for a Speakers Corner, well aside from London, Leeds, Nottingham and Worthington have places in parks; nations, such as Canada, Australia, Thailand and Singapore all have an area where people can have free speech without risk of the law getting involved,"

Arthur took a breath; he could see where they were going as he looked behind himself, towards Baker Street Tube Station.

"Ah, on the left, the road parallel to us is the well-known Baker Street, home to that fictional detective Sherlock Holmes." He looked over to Romano who was busy admiring the houses; _probably doesn't have a clue who Holmes is anyway_; "It's also home to Baker Street Underground, which is one of the world's oldest surviving underground stations,"

A few people got off, some to see the Sherlock Museum and other's for Madame Tussauds wax works.

"So, what about Madame Tussauds?" Romano spoke, pointing to the odd shape building; "Eyesore,"

"Tourists can't miss it,"

"What can you tell us about Tussauds?" Another woman asked him.

"Well… the museum used to be on Baker Street, but due to the rising costs and restricted space, it was moved to where it is now. However back when Madame Tussades was alive; the main attraction was the Chamber of Horrors, and that section included many of the victims of the French Revolution and newer figures of murders and other criminals. Later still other famous people were added, including Horatio Nelson and Sir Walter Scott. In fact there are still some sculptures that were done by Madame Tussauds herself that still exist," Arthur paused for a moment, more people had joined to top deck and all were listening, he had to admit, he was nervous, even if everything he was saying was true; "Ehm, so, the oldest figure on display is that of Madame du Barry, it's called The Sleeping Beauty, other faces include King George III and Benjamin Franklin,"

"Who is Madame du Barry?" An American man asked.

Arthur supressed a groan, _Alfred's people did have a right to visit this country too_, he supposed, _but did it have to be the annoying ones?;_ "She was the official mistress of Louis XV, later, when the French Revolution happened she was arrested and executed,"

The rest of the tour was much the same, not that Romano had a problem, he could easily listen in to what the Brit was saying, or let himself be taken away by that around him.

"Oh, we're coming up to Berkeley Square," Arthur grinned, he looked back and saw most of the tourists had gone, only a few remained; "The most famous mansion here is 50 Berkeley Square, due to it being the most haunted house in London,"

That perked everyone up, Arthur wasn't surprised, history was all well and good, but people liked the unknown, ghosts and the like which could make their minds work.

"It was the late nineteenth century that 50 Berkeley Square was known as the most haunted house in London, this was thanks to the amount of press coverage. Years before a Mr Myer's had rented the place, having it done over for his wife to be, however just before his wedding his bride ran off which resulted in him becoming a recluse, as well as being rather eccentric. He took to wandering about the house each evening by candlelight, the strange behaviour of Mr Myers attracted the press and so the tale of the haunted house in Berkeley Square began…"

Arthur gazed at them, most were puzzled, probably wonder how this was meant to be a scary haunted house when it was just the press.

"The room that he locked himself away in was said to have a chilling atmosphere, although the business that now rents the house states that there has been nothing untoward happening. However there is _that _room," He pointed to the top room of the building; "After Mr Myers had died, the house was rented out again to a new family, one of the maids who went up to clean the room for a ladies fiancé was found rigid with fright, constantly repeating the words 'don't let it touch me'. She was taken to hospital and died the next day,"

"_After_ the scandal of Myers?" The American man had sadly not left them yet.

"Yes. I know, it could easily have just been the papers messing with people's heads," He conceded; "Of course, there is always a skeptic in a group and Berkeley Square was no exception, he took up the challenge to prove there was nothing in the room, so he told his friends that he would ring the bell once if he was comfortable and twice if he should become scared," Arthur paused for a moment and looked at all the faces, eager to hear the result of this little 'test'; "That night the bell rang once, then after a few seconds it began to ring franticly, the friends ran up to assist to find that he had died,"

"That's so sad," One woman said and he nodded.

"These days no one is allowed in that room, out of fear that what happened back then could happen again. The fear is still so strong that the book shop that now owns the house does not allow one employee to be alone in the house. If you wander around the shop, you would see a notice in a frame, it was written out by the police back in the 1950's stating that the top floor of the building was not to be used at all, not even for storage. The premises were declared 'unsafe' although the building is perfectly sound. The notice remains on the wall as it had never been revoked,"

"That's freaky," Romano stated and other's agreed with him.

"Well, this is where we get off," Arthur told the Italian who nodded and when the bus stopped they got off.

Once they had stepped onto the pavement they heard a big cheer from the top deck, Arthur blushed while Romano noticed that the people below just looked confused.

"You're in the wrong job!" He laughed.

"You know, I need a drink," He said as they walked off; "And food," He checked his watched.

Romano looked at the watch and blinked; "We were on that bus for FOUR HOURS?

"Well it did take you around London and you never complain," Arthur snapped back.

"Nothing that was worthwhile to know! The gardens were the only interesting bit of the whole tour!"

"You bloody git! If you only wanted to see the gardens we could have gotten off!"

"You were busy!"

"What? I could easily have left the bus if you asked me to. You're as annoying as your brother," Arthur huffed and walked ahead, he stopped and turned to Lovino; "Come along, we don't have all day,"

"Yea, most of it was spent on that god damn bus,"


End file.
